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Changing of the Guard

by Mike Anton

Welcome to the first piece from Liquor and Delicatessen, your weekly "Mad Men" wrap-up column. With the show's March 25th premiere just weeks away, I figured it was time to delve back into the show we left over a year ago. This week, we'll look back at not only one of the finest hours of television ever created, but the exact midpoint of the series. Season 4, episode 7 - "The Suitcase."

This post was written just after the episode's debut airing, September 5th, 2010.

 

 

 

Labor Day – the most ironic of all holidays – is dedicated to not working. But after last night’s incredible episode of "Mad Men," I am moved to put in some time to discuss this pivotal moment in the show’s history. And yes, it might be important enough to necessitate this hyperbole.

Peggy and Don have always had a close and unique relationship on "Mad Men." The show is populated by people who have secrets and try to hide them at any cost. Be it homosexuality, cheating on a spouse, or telling your wife that you paid for boxing tickets, everyone has something to hide. Our two protagonists carry some of the heaviest burdens around, unable to fully deal with them.

Throughout the series, there has been a small battle going on for Peggy’s soul, coming into focus this season. We’ve seen Peggy with her new boyfriend and her reaction to a guy she would have longed for in season one. Unfortunately, that’s not the same Peggy. Not after her pregnancy, not after “my name is Peggy Olsen and I’d like to smoke some marijuana,” not after going to a “happening,” getting hit on by a lesbian, and making out with a rebel reporter in a closet.

She’s been trying to align what she is told she should want and where she actually wants to go. A few episodes ago, she was caught looking at a colleague’s wedding ring, putting it on her finger as a trial run. At first glance, it seems that she's looking at the ring longingly, thinking of her possible future. But it’s just as possible that she was trying to figure out if she would ever want to don one herself. Peggy has already moved past the expectations set out for her -- even going so far as to wholly dismiss them -- but no one can understand why she would adopt this point of view, or what was so wrong the Way Things Are.

The number of lies Don Draper juggles is staggering. The biggest, however, is his very self: that he is Dick Whitman, a cowardly country boy whose first instinct is to get going as soon as the going gets tough. The very idea of Don Draper is as much an advertisement of who he would want to be as it is an actual person. Throughout this season, we’ve seen Draper fade more fully into Whitman, slowly losing his grip on those things which he had the most control over: women, his family, and his job. His only centering point is the one woman who should have the most malice against him, Anna Draper, the woman who gave away her husband’s identity to this hard-on-his-luck stranger, even granting him unfettered acceptance of her new “husband.” Now she is near the grave, leaving Don/Dick with nothing to hold on to, nothing to base himself off of, no history. He is a man apart.

That brings us to "The Suitcase", which has both characters trying desperately to ignore the essential questions and problems that they carry on the daily. What does Peggy want? Who is Don? What are they becoming? Instead of confronting these issues, they concentrate on work, their only salve. The work and the work alone is what drives them forward and keeps them from falling to shambles under the weight of everything they’ve built to this point. It won’t exclude them from the eventuality that awaits them outside the office -- as the constantly-ringing phones remind us -- but it will get their minds off of the issues at hand, as they have no way to resolve them and no way to get it off their chests.

Through working out their problems on the Samsonite ad, they stumble upon resolving their own personal strifes.  Truths begin to slip out. Don remarks, “do you know when my birthday is?” Peggy responds with, “I was your secretary,” unaware that she actually doesn’t know what his real birthday is (although a southern stewardess does). Later, Peggy notes, “it’s not my fault you don’t have a family or friends or anywhere else to go,” and Don lets it slide without making note. Even when he screams at her over the creative process -- the same process we saw Don himself go through with his various campaigns while still a magical pitchman back in season one -- as soon as she starts to cry he drops his beet-red berating and talks to her plainly. In many ways, it’s the first give-and-take relationship Don has ever had in the four seasons we've spent in his company.

This breaks the levee. Don casually tells Peggy how he grew up on a farm, how his father died and his mother was an unknown quality (because she was a whore who died in child birth, natch), going so far as to mention how he saw someone die in Korea, but pulling back before revealing it was the OG Don Draper. (Rome wasn't absolved in a day, y'know.) When Peggy informs us of how she feels being an ugly duckling and the pain that seeing children brings to her, it becomes clear that they just gave each other crib notes on what makes them tick. What’s shocking is that we know all of this, but we have had a privileged vantage point; they can’t really hide anything from the audience. The fact that they’re sharing it with someone else -- and scratching the surface at bearing their souls -- is as important as it is touching, especially considering how Don usually conducts his charges.

I was discussing this episode with my friend nate and he mentioned how much influence the exchange of money has in Don’s relationships. When you look back, Don has treated every relationship like that of a prostitute. He pays off Allison in exchange for sex in that Christmas bonus. His entire marriage with Betty was giving her what she wanted (a house, a family, lots of money) while giving her nothing emotionally, and his inability to understand what she wanted helped doom their marriage. So when Peggy asks for credit, an incredulous Don screams, “THAT’S WHAT THE MONEY IS FOR!” putting a very definitive line in the sand for Peggy, along with the rest of humanity. Even Anna Draper, the woman he holds so dear, is supported by Don, using his money as a means of making amends for all the damage he has done to her emotionally. Except Peggy won’t accept that. In fact, she does not accept Don in the shape he has put himself into.

Don has been staggering toward rock bottom the last few weeks, but he does not actually hit bottom until he gets hit by a lame Duck Phillips, already shown to be a complete mess earlier in the day. Duck gets the best of a defeated, disheveled Don, his usually spotless shirt already covered in his own filth. Having Don say “uncle” on the floor of the business that has his name on the door at the hand of someone he disposed of so swiftly nary a season ago was the most pathetic we’ve ever seen Don. Especially demeaning is the fact that Duck just tried to take a shit on a chair, even farting (farting!) on "Mad Men," which is like farting during a break at the opera. To top it off, Peggy leaves with Duck, letting Don sulk off to his office, alone, beaten.

Peggy returns -- as she did all episode long, as she has done all series long -- to find him in shambles. The office is as stark as it has ever been, wonderfully matching the bleakness of our current Don Draper. He asks for a drink, the only thing he’s been able to use to dull the pain, and instead takes Peggy’s lap. This is the first time he’s probably ever slept with a woman without sex in the equation. Just as he breaks down that wall, he whispers, “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” the only time he has apologized on his own in the history of the show. When Don sees the spectral Anna crossing over (carrying his baggage?) she notices how Peggy has filled her role; Don notices the same, nods, and then goes back to sleep in the comfort of his new friend’s lap.

When the morning comes, it is literally the dawning of a new day for Don Draper. He instantly goes to the phone to come to grips with the realization of Anna’s passing, even though as he says to Stephanie, he already knows she’s gone. He attempts the usual Draper routine, saying he’ll fly out there to deal with the arrangements and to take care of the house, but both have already been taken care of, leaving him to simply deal with the emotional toll devoid of distraction and of power to control his surroundings, his emotions. He even tries to drag the conversation out, but Stephanie hangs up. The call is over and everything is very, very real.

As Don hangs up the phone, you can see that he is alone. And for that second, he looks just like he did after being confronted with the Dick Whitman evidence by Betty. But then he looks up and makes eye contact with Peggy, who has been awake for some amount of time, and Don just loses it. When she asks who it was that he lost, he says “someone close to me,” giving enough information to find some sort of emotional catharsis while keeping enough hidden to be comfortable. Much like how Don knows about Peggy’s child but not all the details, they can both acknowledge what they need to while hiding just enough to be comfortable.

When we see Don again at 10:30, he seems back to normal, looking crisp and lively against a New York skyline, sitting in an office beaming with light. It is the Don we’ve been waiting for, the one we were hoping would get redeemed. Even if we only get a glimpse, it’s easy to see. The fear is that Don will forget what happened the previous night, or push it under the carpet as he did with Allison. Instead, in a small, quiet moment, Don gives his instructions for Peggy. Before she can go off, he grabs her hand, echoing the advance Peggy made in the pilot. In that moment of silence, he tells her more than he’s told anyone, including his ex-wife. In that look is empathy, gratefulness, and the acknowledgment of a shared bond. Then, right back to work, as they both want it to be, now buffered by a real relationship.

 

 

 

Not to be the wet blanket after all of this love and equality I’ve been yammering on about, but we shouldn’t get used to this level, if the show’s laws are any indication. The writers on "Mad Men" (there are other writers than Weiner, right?) have always used real-life historical events to show the divide between the new and young and old and out of touch. From JFK/Nixon to the “Lemon” VW ads and now the Liston/Ali fight, we get clues as to who will survive as the 60s hit and who will become extinct.

This foreshadowing does not look good for Don. Not only does he take Liston (for his "age and experience," no less)  he does not see the value in Ali as a pitch man, nor will he buy into a celebrity endorsement for Joe Namath, considering it "lazy."  Ali became a beloved American figure and outside of “the guarantee,” Broadway Joe is best known for his TV ads (and smooth moves on sideline reporters), showing that Don will be proved wrong. Further, when Don asks Peggy if Ali is handsome, she says yes to Don’s amazement. Peggy counters, “you’re not supposed to,” then tells a story about her dad. Not the most flattering thing for the cutting-edge Draper to hear, I’m sure.

But all this wild speculation is reinforced by a number of shot selections, as "Mad Men" always uses the shot selection and mise en scene to further explore the story going on within the characters. One of the most striking images from the series is the shot of Don from behind, mirrored in the logo and opening of the show. The world unfolding in front of him, everything in play before him, standing over it like a conqueror. It is a shot that almost exclusively belongs to Don, given only when he is in a position of power.

As the scene between Don and Peggy unfolds in the bar, we open with a shot of them from behind to establish the scene. During their conversation, the radio shouts out the play-by-play of the boxing match. Soon the match is nearing its completion (even though it has barely started) and in doing so, we push in closer and closer on their backs, until finally we get one of those definitive Don Draper shots with Peggy in equal measure in the frame, just as Liston hits the mat and Ali screams over him.

Obviously the shot gives some credence to Don accepting Peggy as an equal and the show doing the same in kind.  But where it goes from here has larger implications for the series.  Either this means that the two of them will work together (as seen in the final scene) and together will take SCDP to the top of the industry, or we are seeing the point where Don is on his way down as Peggy takes off.

Whichever it is will be told in time. Regardless, we’ll never see the show -- and these two characters -- the same away again.

Image courtesy of Michael Yarish, AMC/Lion’s Gate Studios

 

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Mike Anton is the Editor-In-Chief at The Inclusive. Mike writes movie reviews and interview pieces for The Film Stage as well as screenplays, sketches, and the like. He lives in New York City and though he's an avid beard and flannel enthusiast, he does not consider himself a hipster. Contact him at mike.anton[at]theinclusive.net or @mpants